Monday, 30 January 2012
Iron Men, Crosby Beach
Some completely submersed at high tide, others knee deep in the shifting turbulent sands; all glimpsing, longing for, the occasional ship that passes them by.
Each facing away from the fading town; a wannabe tourist destination that never was; these men the last gloomy attraction.
Men that have never lived, never loved, never worked, never screamed, never grown up.
But like all, decaying; and eventually, when we've all perished, washed away on those turbulent sands.